


Cult following

by m_findlow



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28802859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_findlow/pseuds/m_findlow
Summary: Jack's always been popular with the locals.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Kudos: 14
Collections: fic_promptly Fills 2016





	Cult following

'Oh, I haven't been here for years,' Jack said, stepping out of their ship and looking around at the bustling city laid out before them.

'In fairness, you haven't been anywhere for years,' Ianto corrected him, taking in the wider view.

'You know the last time I came here was to set up trade relations with the nearby cargo port on Stella Nine,' he said, bending down to tie up his shoelace.

'I trust you made quite a mark on the local population,' he said, observing a large bronze statue at the edge of the city.

'They were super nice folk. Treated me like a prince while I was here.'

'Mmm,' Ianto hummed. 'And built a statue in your honour.'

'Huh?'

Ianto pointed upwards and Jack saw it for the first time. An eighteen foot high monolith of him in all his naked glory.

'Hey, good likeness.'

'A little too good,' Ianto noted, narrowing his eyes, giving it closer inspection. 'Seems they've been worshipping you in your absence.'

'Now I remember! They had a name for me. What was it? Started with S. Sirat, Somar,'

'Samsira!' one of the townsfolk cried out as they entered the city, pointing at them, a look of awe on his face.

'Samsira! Samsira!' they all began to cry.

'That's the one,' Jack said.

'What does it mean?' Ianto asked.

'Er, you don't want to know,' he replied awkwardly.

He placed his hands on his hips. 'No, I think I really do,' he insisted.

'Closest translation is Sexy God Lord.'

'How appropriate,' Ianto replied, deadpan, rolling his eyes.

Townsfolk began to crowd around Jack, splitting them apart, all the while chanting his name over and over. Jack struggled back through the crowd to reach out for Ianto's hand, pulling him back. In the craziness Jack finally got hold of him, tugging him until he almost crashed into Jack. Then the crowd fell into a hushed silence.

'Uh oh, I don't think that was a good idea, Jack.'

'Ooh! Samsira!' one man cried, pointing now at Ianto.

'Samsira! Samsira!' they began chanting again, dragging him toward the city centre, leaving Jack to tow along behind, barely able to keep a hold on his hand.

'What's going on?' Ianto asked, trying not to sound worried.

'I think you just usurped my popularity contest crown.'

'You can have it back if you like,' he said, riding along with the wave of people.

'I don't think I get a say in the matter, Sexy God Lord.'

'Do something, Jack. I don't want to spend the rest of our days stuck here being worshipped. What use are you if not to get me out of trouble on an alien planet?'

'It's not my fault they have impeccable taste. If they decide to cast you in bronze I'm making sure we get one to take home with us.'


End file.
